


imagine that

by city_bright



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city_bright/pseuds/city_bright
Summary: Set in S2, post The Desert. Danny experiences all these cute/romantic/quiet moments with Mindy. A lot of fluff and the teensiest bit of angst with a twist.
Relationships: Danny Castellano/Mindy Lahiri
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	imagine that

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, it's been a minute since I've been here, but I'm on Day 29 of self-quarantine/staying at home, and boredom was bound to kick in. So I dusted off an old draft from a couple of years ago, spruced it up a bit, and here we are!

He kisses her for the first time, and it physically hurts him because his heart just plunges straight to the ground, but it’s amazing all the same. Her lips are soft and supple, and he can taste the faint floral sweetness from her lip balm, and a groan escapes from the back of his throat. He smiles against her lips, and she kisses him back with equal ferocity, and he thinks she wants him as much as he does. God, he hopes she does because there is no turning back now.

The sun is setting, marking the end of the day, and it’s casting a dark peachy glow in the apartment that envelopes him in a dream-like comfort he can’t describe. There’s something so serene and calming about the twilight skies. Mindy is right by his side on the couch, and she’s completely entranced by the movie as she always is. _When Harry Met Sally_ is playing, which he fought against, tooth and nail, but she’s Mindy, and he’s Danny, and that’s enough of an explanation. But then Harry says that when he realizes he wants to spend the rest of his life with Sally, he wants it to start as soon as possible. He raises his eyebrow as if this is the first time he’s hearing it. And it kind of is because he’s usually not paying attention, but it’s different now. Maybe a romantic comedy is right about something for once. He’ll never tell Mindy though. Well. Maybe one day. 

The soft moonlight filters in through his curtains, draping itself over Mindy, giving her a pearlescent glow he never thought was possible until tonight. She is so beautiful, and he knows he’ll never know love like this. He's loved her for years, and it feels unreal to see her looking at him like he hung the moon when, in fact, she did. He leans in to tenderly kiss the corner of her jaw and then down her neck, and she lets out a short, contented hum, sending chills down his body. She runs her fingers through his hair and rests her hand on his cheek when he leaves the cradle of her neck to kiss the inside of her palm. He moves his hand over hers, pulling her fingertips to his lips, wishing she could be his forever.

When he wakes up in the morning, her back is facing him, so he huddles closer and kisses her shoulder. She’s still asleep, but she turns towards him and curls against his chest, hands tucked under her chin. He wraps his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip, and he never wants her to leave because this is home. When she does wake up, she buries her nose in his chest and lets out a breathy sigh, an indication of good night’s sleep. She stretches her legs and raises her arms above her head like a cat and retreats back into the space between them and lightly presses her lips to his neck. He greets her good morning, and she hums. He could really get used to this.

He asks her if she wants to go out with him tonight, somewhere nice, and she nods her head excitedly, but her eyes immediately go wide in a panic because she needs 4 hours minimum to get date-night ready, and it’s noon, and she’s already running late. He tilts his head in confusion because dinner isn’t until 6 pm, and he doesn’t understand this concept because she looks beautiful, with or without makeup, and does it really take 4 hours to get ready? The evening arrives in a flash, and he finds her muttering under her breath in her closet, with the zipper to her dress halfway up. He makes his presence known with a tap of his knuckles to the door frame and asks her if she needs help with her dress. She sweeps away her hair away, and he kisses the base of her neck and slides the zipper down. He thinks the way she says his name was meant to be scolding in nature, but it only sounds encouraging, so he takes it one step further by pushing her dress off her shoulders.

He stands corrected. Mindy illuminated by the soft candle glow is when she’s most beautiful. She raises her wine glass to her lips with a spark in her eyes, and he could say it’s because of the flicker of the candle in-between them, but it’s not. It’s just her. His heart is pounding, and a smirk is breaking through her features as she sips her wine, and she is utterly charming that he can’t help but stutter his words and crack a smile himself. She sets down her glass, a playful grin dancing along her face, and asks what’s wrong. He gazes at her and tells her nothing is wrong. How could there be? She is perfect.

He walks her home after their date because it just makes the night last a little bit longer, and he doesn’t want it to end. Her arm brushes against his as they weave through the pedestrian traffic in the city that never sleeps, and he gets goosebumps every single time, even in this unseasonably warm evening. Their fingers are now intertwined between them, and her free hand is tucked between his arm and ribcage because she’s cold. He doesn’t mind because he loves the way she holds him tighter against the sway of traffic and the way she slips her hand back in its place when she finishes gesticulating about the latest drama. There’s a fire in her eyes, a committed enthusiasm in her voice, and her face lights up when she talks about the things she loves, and he really hopes he’s one of them. He stops them on the sidewalk to kiss her, disrupting the flow of traffic, which might as well be illegal in the streets of New York, but he doesn't care. He releases her lips, along with a shaky breath, and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed because she’s potent, and he’s already high, and she asks what that was for. He opens his eyes. Just wanted to, he says.

He writes her a letter to tell her he loves her because it’s the best way he knows how. Writing his feelings on paper come easily to him. She has made him be the best version of himself, and despite his best efforts to remain guarded and keep her away, he couldn’t. Not with her. He thinks about her all the time and misses her when she’s not around. She’s great. She smiles wide enough that the corner of her eyes crinkles, and she’s radiant. His eyes fall down to her lips, and he so desperately wants to lean in and kiss her, but the plane drops and so does his stomach.

He wakes up in a panic, body slick with sweat, and he can’t breathe. He kicks away the comforter and feels the cool air, but it does nothing to calm the frantic thumping against his chest. It wasn’t real, none of it was, and he feels stupid for wanting someone who doesn’t want him back. That, coupled with the noticeable empty space of his bed, reminds him that he is very much alone. He curls back into a fetal position, physically making himself as small and insignificant as he feels, and tries to fall back asleep to get back into the world he so badly wants to be real. But he can’t. He sighs. His eyes find the glow of the moon against his curtains, and he wonders if she’s looking at it too.


End file.
